


A Sunday In Spring

by AllTrekkedUp



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Death, Grief/Mourning, Love, M/M, Morning After, Slash, Spring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 02:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14990537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTrekkedUp/pseuds/AllTrekkedUp
Summary: Napoleon and Illya are relaxing after a mission when they find out some terrible news.





	A Sunday In Spring

Napoleon Solo stood looking out the window of his and his partner, Illya Kuryakin's hotel room. The window was open to let the fresh air in and along with it the sounds of church bells ringing signaling that it was Sunday morning. Napoleon had a cup of coffee in his hand, blue and white china with gold trimmings, he was freshly shaven and just out of the shower, having dressed in a gray suit he was still in his stocking feet, after having a sip of coffee he took a deep breath.

"You know Windsor is beautiful in spring, and so is this coffee cup and so are you. I just wish this coffee didn't taste like I soaked my socks in it all winter," Napoleon commented, not turning away from the window.

Illya chuckled behind him, he was sitting in a chair beside a small round table just a little space from the foot of their bed. They had taken the room the day before after having dashed a THRUSH plot to take over the UK, it was the last room that the quaint old hotel had and they told the desk clerk that that they would just have to deal with the double bed- little did she know. Illya had gotten up later than Napoleon, he was in his blue pajamas eating room service which was supposed to be for both of them but Napoleon knew he wouldn't be getting any of it.

"You should have gotten tea," Illya said, taking a sip of his own cuppa.

"I have to have my coffee, IK. Even if it is horrible," Napoleon said.

"I am well acquainted with your needs," Illya said.

Napoleon chuckled this time. "That you are my lovely Russian," he said.

"If you are going to talk like that then get out of the window, someone might hear," Illya said between bites.

"I'm sorry, I just love to hear the church bells. I would like to go sometime, maybe here at one of the old churches," Napoleon said.

Illya snorted. "You can talk about going to church after what we did last night? If they knew they might burn you at the stake," he said.

"Oh I think burning at the stake went out a few hundred years ago. I guess the bells remind me of when I was a boy, going to St. Patrick's in New York with my parents and my sister. I was an alter boy for a while, those were good times, mother and father together, looking so nice, they were proud of me," Napoleon said, his voice far away as he looked out.

"Um, what happened with your parents? You never speak of them," Illya said, though he knew he rarely spoke of his own parents back in Russia.

Napoleon sighed. "Father was killed in a boating accident not long after I began my U.N.C.L.E training. I remember it was a Sunday in spring, just like this, I got the news from mother, I don't remember where I was but the church bells were ringing then too," he said.

"I am sorry," Illya said. He looked at Napoleon from behind, having stopped eating as Napoleon talked.

"It's alright. There are many days that change a man's life, that was one of them, and so is today. Illya Kuryakin one of these days, I don't know when or where or how but I am going to marry you," Napoleon said, turning around with a smile. All the sadness and reminiscence gone from his voice.

Illya had been taking a drink of tea and nearly choked, coughing he looked at Napoleon wide eyed. "Are you serious?!"

"I have never been more serious about anything in my life. Just say yes and we'll leave the date to society, it will change sometime, we aren't the only ones you know," Napoleon winked.

"Yes I know we aren't, but that could take time," Illya said. 

"I've got time," Napoleon countered.

Illya found his mouth turning up at the corners. "In that case, yes," he said.

Napoleon grinned and went over to kiss Illya warmly. "We might be eighty-five when it happens but I'll make a Solo of you eventually," he said.

Illya laughed as Napoleon's commutator began beeping, he pulled out and opened it. "Solo here," he said.

"Mr. Solo this is Mr. Halloway," came the voice. Mr. Carlyle Halloway was the head of U.N.C.L.E's London headquarters that they had been working with.

"Yes, Mr. Halloway, good morning," Napoleon said.

"I am afraid it isn't old boy, I regret to inform you that Alexander has had a heart attack. He..well he didn't make it," Mr. Halloway said quietly.

Napoleon audibly gasped, Illya was stunned, Napoleon handed him the commutator as he walked back to the window.

"I am sorry," Mr. Halloway said again.

"Thank you for informing us," Illya said, he closed the commutator and got up.

Illya went to Napoleon and leaned against his back, arms slipping around his waist, now not caring who saw what as Napoleon wept and the church bells continued to ring.

THE END.


End file.
